


Future Turned Backward

by werewindle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, HP: EWE, M/M, Romance, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 16:57:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4487445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/werewindle/pseuds/werewindle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An eighteen year old Severus finds time travel a little trickier than he expected.</p><p>
  <span class="small">[<i>Originally for lillibet4 and <a href="http://asylums.insanejournal.com/snarry_swap/">Daft Day</a>, it's since been fleshed out and polished up.</i>]</span>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Future Turned Backward

  


  


Severus Snape bitterly regretted quite a few things in his eighteen years of life. But none more than allowing those Gryffindor goons' constant annoyance to blind him enough that he fell for the codswallop Malfoy preached. Not to mention the Dark Lord – anyone who sounded that much like a televangelist couldn't be trusted, or sane.

Severus despised being a Death Eater. The whole business was painful, unenlightening and cut into his brewing time entirely too much. The company was universally unappealing, comprised of inbred Purebloods and their imbecilic cousins. Malfoy was the only decent one of the lot; he'd certainly used his charisma to turn Snape's head when he'd been recruiting. Sadly, Lucius' conversations consisted mostly of haircare woes, fondling his cane and pondering whether Narcissa Black would prefer adjoining rooms or separate wings, per the Malfoy tradition, after they wed.

The last few months made it clear to Severus that he was not cut out for the life of a minion, so he'd made up his mind to defect. Severus had briefly considered the idea of throwing himself on Dumbledore's mercy. He'd quickly tossed that idea aside. Dumbledore hadn't helped him fifth year and Severus didn't trust him to help now. No, if he went to the Headmaster the old fool would either have him under Auror care or blackmail him into spying. Neither fate was appealing, he was, after all, trying to get out of the Death Eaters and away from the Dark Lord - not entrench himself deeper. 

To achieve his goal Severus spent many an hour late at night pouring over books he'd pilfered from the libraries of his fellow Death Eaters. Really, if they didn't want people taking them they should have warded them better. 

Severus had found his solution. Elegant in it's simplicity and yet potentially as difficult as creating a Philosopher's Stone. A Time-Turner. Within a dusty, distressed tome formerly of the McNair's family library lay the prototype designs for a Time-Turner powerful enough to send the wearer back months, if not years. Severus could go back and warn himself away from joining the Death Eaters. He could get back the wasted months of his life.

Of course he'd have to make sure that his younger self knew how to make the Time-Turner so that the paradox of no longer needing one, and thus not making one, and thus never going back in time – didn't occur. 

Severus would also have to finish the calculations and improve on the time-sand potion since the designs were incomplete. No matter. He was confident that he could do so easily; Severus had already found the major flaw in the prototype – probably why it had been abandoned – and he knew how to go about fixing it. 

With a few weeks and a bit of time, Severus Snape would again be a free man.

  


  
  


  


Harry Potter was bored. The kind of bored that lasted for months and drove people to try stupid things like bungee jumping or playing golf. So far he'd avoided these horrors but he could feel himself slipping. The day before he'd listened to a discussion about caddies far longer than he needed to. 

Harry turned twenty-one his last birthday, he'd defeated Voldim the Wart and completed his final year of Hogwarts near the top of his (admittedly diminished) class. He had even ranked as the Bachelor of the Year four years running in Witch Weekly, Valkyrie Quarterly and Torque – a rather posh, if a bit pervy, gay pinup periodical. 

All fine upstanding qualities. Well. . . mostly upstanding anyway. Yet Harry couldn't for the life of him get a … life. He was dating Ginny-- but they were again on the outs. Sometimes he wasn't sure what made him stay with her, but then she'd bake him something (not as good as Molly's but then who's was?), apologize and smile that smile that made Harry think of having babies. Rocky romantic relationship aside, he hadn't done much in months. 

Harry had spent a few years traveling, getting a proper Lord's education. Which mostly consisted of organizing his families' estates and the obligatory tour of the continent, and the not so obligatory tour of the other six continents. The ruins of Atlantis under the Antarctic icecap had been inspiring, if not a little disturbing. 

Then, he'd come home with the vague idea he could get a job doing something part time - to keep himself from going barmy mostly. That had not worked out _at all_. People wanted to hire him for the publicity. The couple of jobs he had tried: he'd found himself swarmed, and very nearly molested, on more than one occasion. 

Trying to shake himself from his funk, Harry apparated to Ron and Hermione's flat, hoping that his best friends would be able to distract him for a while. Even if all they talked about were their plans for the wedding and Ron's burgeoning career as keeper for the Cannons. 

Ignoring the urge to bang on the closet door and shout “Lucy, I'm home!” (as the twins were prone to do), Harry instead called out to his friends and went wandering toward the kitchen. 

No one answered. 

Harry glanced at the calendar and pouted. Dinner at Bill's was written in red and circled. Taking half a minute to contemplate heading there or to the Burrow, Harry decided to just crash on the couch and wait for his friends to return. If he went to Bill's, he'd be welcomed **but** Gabrielle was there, and the younger half veela was still prone to try to whammy him. If he went to the Burrow, Molly would fuss after him and Ginny would either glare through the whole meal or storm off to her room. 

Fortifying himself with a snack and a drink Harry made a nest on the couch and turned on the tele. After channel surfing for a bit, Harry eventually settled on an old episode of Changing Rooms. Three episodes later Harry had an epiphany.

He could renovate houses! 

Surely now that the Dark Idiots were gone more muggleborns would want to stay in the wizarding world and they'd want houses with the same comforts as their childhood homes – teles, phones, electric lights, microwave ovens. 

He'd have to go talk to the goblins first thing tomorrow. Mind ticking over what qualities he'd be looking for, Harry apparated to the Black manor. A moment later he came back; set his dishes to wash themselves and flipped the crumpled blanket over the back of the couch. Harry didn't, after all, want to leave a mess for Hermione – it'd make her cranky. Room set to rights, Harry left again.

 

For days afterward Ron would wonder what happened to the roast he'd been saving for a midnight snack.

  


  
  


  


Severus tightened the last screw on the Time-Turner casing and gently set the device on his worktop. It was done. 

Lips curling at the ends, Snape put aside his tools and left for a shower, locking the workroom door behind him. The house was warded tight and no one knew where he lived but Severus felt better with the extra precaution. 

He took a shower quickly. Severus let the shampoo sit on his hair to work at the residue of protectant cream that always seemed to cling to it while he washed away the grime of oil, metal shavings, dust and sweat from his pale skin. Clean, he slid into a hot bath prepared with an invigorating potion of his own design with a basic muscle therapy solution. 

Bathed, his hair dried and brushed with more care than he usually took, Severus stared into his closet. He wanted to make an impression on his younger self. The Dark Lord preferred all his minions to dress in the most proper of wizarding styles - layered robes without a hint of muggle fashion in them. Despite this, Severus had never gotten rid of his muggle clothing. He had, in fact, grown his collection after graduation when the money from his grandfather's estate had been made available to him. Not that it was a huge amount, certainly nowhere near the cavernous wealth of the Malfoys. 

Head tilting one way or the other as he evaluated trousers of denim and twill for color and cut. Nothing was suitable. With growing exasperation, _who would have thought getting dressed would be the difficult part?_ , Severus shoved hanger after hanger aside. From the very back Severus pulled out a pair of black leather pants he'd bought on a whim and never worn. They had deep green straps with silver buckles that crisscrossed over the waist and around the thighs. Something about the way the green canvas felt buckled over the leather made Severus feel slightly dangerous – as if he should be carrying a weapon. 

Severus turned this way and that in the mirror, liking the way the pants accentuated his assets more than his usual twill trousers. The shirt at least was easy enough; Severus owned mostly dress shirts and a t-shirt or jumper would have been too casual. He pulled out a crisp white button-down shirt with three-button cuffs, liking the way the cuffs gathered the sleeves close to his forearm. It took but a moment to tuck the shirt in and smooth it so the tails didn't show beneath the leather. Severus' mouth twisted as he looked in the mirror. _Unfinished._ Going back to the closet Severus disdained a jacket for a simple, fitted black waistcoat. 

The final touch was a smudge of kohl to his eyes. Something he would not have done were Severus still trying to curry favor with Malfoy. Lucius thought it was a sign of a weak, effeminate man to wear make-up. A laughable belief from a man who spent so much time, effort and money on his own hair. 

Severus wanted not only to look good, but to prove a point. These small rebellions in his dress would be calculated by his past self and weighed with the information he was being given. Severus desperately wanted this to work the first time, but should he fail, with his Time-Turner he could continue to try. 

Severus fastened a cloak on and made sure his wand was secure as well as a pouch of money, enough to tide him over until the time loop completed--should he be unable to convince his younger self. Ready as he'd ever be, Severus went to retrieve the Turner. He picked up the pocket watch looking device and slipped the chain around his neck. 

With careful, precise movements, Severus turned the workings softly, counting the weeks as he went. If all went well he should arrive back in April, two months before his initiation. Long enough to distance himself from Malfoy before the end of the term, and weeks before he'd be invited to meet the Dark Lord for the first time. One last flick and the world around him began to swirl as he moved outside the flow of time. 

Severus watched with anticipation that soon turned to bewilderment as the workroom he was standing in shifted and changed. He saw himself time and again, growing older and more sallow, face twisted in a grimace far too often. Furniture moved around, dust collected and swept away, night and day flickering in the window far faster then his mind could comprehend. 

Something had gone wrong. 

The whirl of images started to slow and the only change was the growth of the trees outside, until another, unknown, figure started to appear. Two house elves swirled in and out and the man returned. He was shorter then Severus, more muscled and with a honey tone to his skin that spoke of time spent outdoors. 

More time passed empty. 

Finally when he thought he'd go mad or grind his teeth to stubs the swirling melt halted and Severus found himself alone in his home at Spinner's End.

  


  
  


  


England was full of fools and busybodies. 

Three days after breaking off his farce of an engagement to Ginevra, Harry left – leaving only a short note tacked to his back door. It stated quite simply: **On Holiday.**

The first place Harry went was Japan; more precisely into the care of Healer Arai. He submitted to potions, medicinal teas and a cupping, all aimed at clearing any lingering love potion from his system and correcting any side effects from long-term exposure. He even, at Arai-sensei's behest, let a tiny Thai masseur twist him into a pretzel. He felt better than he had in years. Good enough to go out to the sushi shop he favored years ago – still sporting cupping hickeys. He stuffed himself on food and culture, had a master paint him the kanji for _beginning_ on a wall scroll and watched a variety show marathon, the basis of which seemed to involve dressing school boys up as girls and exclaiming over how naturally feminine they looked. 

Still not ready to return home, Harry decided to take the long way back. He drank too much beer in Australia, where he also discovered opal mining was dead boring and that he wasn't cut out for subterranean living. 

He tried to lose himself but not his money in Vegas, only sort of succeeding at either. Disenchanted to find that most wizarding showgirls were even worse social climbers than their muggle counter-parts, Harry skipped out for a desert on another continent. The view from his room had reminded him of Egypt and the sightseeing tour he'd been too sun-burnt to take when he'd stayed with Bill and Fleur three years ago. (And then too eager to avoid Gabrielle.) 

Despite being peak tourist season, Harry found a well recommended guide that provided wizarding area tours as well as after hour trips to the more traveled muggle sites. 

There was something about the ruins in Egypt that spoke to Harry – not in that 'voice in the wall' way. It stirred his rather stifled spiritual side. Harry found himself murmuring in appreciation, fingers ghosting over carvings and tilting conjured mirrors to light the main chamber at the temple of Bes. The lone priest at the temple talked with Harry at length about the diminutive god that was the protector of children, banisher of evil and the representative of music, dance and sexual pleasure. 

Harry left a transfigured flute and a handful of galleons as offering. His guide laughed until his face turned blue. He chided Harry, claiming the offering would keep the priest in wine for sure but that the old gods had long left – if they had ever been to begin with.

Harry ignored him.

  


  
  


  


Severus tucked the Time-Turner into his shirt and drew his wand. Outside the light was dying, casting shadows through the house. His home was obviously not being looked after by himself or anyone else. There was dust gathering again, and spiderwebs hanging in the parlor corners. Plaster and paneling was missing from the walls all along the hallway and into the foyer. White wires wound through the naked walls hanging aimlessly in places. 

Severus cautiously entered the kitchen, thankful to see that this room at least had avoided whatever destruction had befallen the other rooms. Waving his wand in figure eights and a final abrupt slash Severus reactivated the wards on the house. He set the tea kettle boiling - his mother had often remarked that a good cup of tea could set anything to rights - and picked up the abandoned news paper from the sideboard. 

His breath caught at the headline “Long Awaited Potter-Weasley Wedding Called Off! Sources Reveal the Use of Love Potions!” Severus' eyes flicked to the date in the corner April 3, 2003. His legs wobbled and he barely made it onto a kitchen chair rather then the floor. 

He'd known... he'd thought. You weren't supposed to be able to travel _forward_ in time. Severus had seen himself age, but he'd hoped he'd been mistaken, that the man he'd seen had been some forgotten relative. Twenty-five years. He'd come forward twenty-five years. 

Severus looked again at the paper taking in the couple in the photograph below the listlessly blinking banner. The girl must have been the Weasley, the first in many a generation. The boy was undoubtedly Potter. He had his father's nose and unruly hair, but his face was shaped like Lily's with the same wide grin. _Captivating_ , his traitorous mind supplied. 

Disgusted with his turn of thought Severus tossed the paper aside and finished his survey of the ground floor. More dust and cloth draped furniture and a half empty bottle of scotch were all he found. Taking the bottle with him, Severus added a generous dollop to his tea when it finished. Scotch might have been an acquired taste but he felt the need to acquire it tonight. 

All his plans were ruined. Snape didn't dare try to fiddle with the Time-Turner yet. His emotions were too high to be sure his thoughts were perfectly rational. Any wrong action could exacerbate the situation. 

Severus finished his tea and made his way upstairs hoping to find something to tell how his home came to be this way. He was wary of going to Diagon or anywhere else without some knowledge. Hours of searching revealed nothing. His hiding spots had been undisturbed except for a few additions - an odd cracked stone and more money, both wizarding and muggle. 

Feeling as if he'd been put through the wringer Severus wandered to his bed. He kicked his boots off and stripped down. The bed and linens were aired and cleaned with a swish of his wand and Severus climbed in more than ready to sleep the clock round.

  


  
  


  


Harry was exhausted. All the way down to his bones, exhausted. The one thing he wanted more then anything else right this minute was peace and quiet. But since everyone and their brother knew he was back from Cairo he couldn't take two steps without someone popping up, let alone find the space for a nap. 

Locking himself in the bathroom Harry shimmied out the small window, cursing softly as his shirt snagged on the latch and ran for the apparition point. He felt a little bad about leaving the house the way he had but his annoyance at having people barge into his home and making a nuisance of themselves smothered most of it.

Arriving in the backyard of Spinner's End was a relief for Harry. No one knew he owned the property and he'd added wards against scrying so no-one could track him down while he was working on renovations. Most wizarding contractors wouldn't mess with Muggle technology despite the fact there was a fair market for such houses. Spinner's End was to be his prototype of sorts, since Harry doubted he'd be able to part with it. 

Renovations had halted though, when Ginny had insisted that they needed a house of their own after they married and specifically in Godric's Hollow. He'd spent a few nights here after breaking their engagement before he'd left for Japan, but he hadn't been in a state to do anything. 

Harry spared a glance for the overgrown yard and made his way inside. The wards seemed heavy when he opened the door but he passed through them without problem so he brushed the oddity from his mind. Harry frowned at the sight of the dust coating everything but wasn't up to cleaning. He probably shouldn't have even apparated, as tired as he was. 

Harry stumbled around a chair that had been pulled out from the table and shuffled through the dark house toward the stairs. Only the thought of the bed waiting for him kept his feet moving. Harry didn't bother with the lights when he got to the bedroom, he just kicked off his shoes and fell into bed, still dressed.

  


  
  


  


Severus was having a good dream, the best dream he'd possibly ever had. He was warm and safe at home, he hadn't joined the Death Eaters and he'd charmed the most gorgeous man into his bed. Severus really didn't want to leave the heated fantasy but there was something niggling at his mind. Fighting to stay asleep a bit longer, Severus scrunched his eyes tight shut and burrowed deeper into the arms around him. 

Arms...

_There was something wrong about that. Wasn't there? He was sure..._

Severus's train of thought was derailed by the feeling of lips nuzzling along his neck. A strong thigh pressed between his own and a hip rolled against his groin. _That was most certainly alright._ Perhaps he really had charmed a handsome wizard into his bed. 

“Smell like cardamom.” It wasn't the voice that finally drug Severus fully awake but the sharp bite, just this side of painful, under his jaw. Severus flailed out once, twice hitting his bedmate. 

“I'm not breakfast, you oaf.” Severus opened his eyes and pushed back as far as the arms around him would allow. “You- Potter! What the hell are you doing in my home? How did you get past the bloody wards? And let go, for Merlin's sake.”

Potter blinked at him dazedly but let Severus go. He scratched his chin, seeming to study the room from the corner of his eyes. “I own the place, so I think a better question is who are you, and how did you get in here?”

“Own it.” Severus scoffed at Potter and pulled the sheets higher around his waist. He was feeling at a bit of a disadvantage being naked while Potter was dressed. “I should think not. This has been the Prince home for generations.”

“Probably.” Harry offered with a shrug. He pushed himself up further on the bed and Severus noted the casual way the other man's wand dropped into his hand from a forearm holster. “But after Severus Snape's death-”

“'m dead? That's...” The weight of the previous day's events crashed down on Severus. He was in the future. A future where he was apparently dead. 

Potter raised his eyebrows, head cocked to the side. “I inherited this house after Snape's death. Now. Let's start with something simple. Who are you?”

“The Prince Heir.” Severus bit out. He wasn't sure if he could trust the other man. He was a Potter, but he was also Lily's son. She, at least, would have raised a good man. 

“Your first name? And don't lie.” Potter was looking at him through narrowed eyes now, his body tensed from it's earlier sprawl.

“Severus.” Snape snarled at the other man, hating the fact he'd been backed into a corner. Had he his wand, Severus might have put up a resistance. 

“Junior or...” Harry's arm shot out and Severus barely grabbed his hand before it could touch the Time-Turner. “Time traveler. You remind me of a memory, you know? And that,” Harry pushed against Snape's hold until his fingers brushed the silver case. “Looks even more familiar.”

Severus looked away from Potter's stare. He almost rolled off the bed, ready to bolt for the door when Potter's wand flicked; but whatever spell he cast wasn't directed at Snape. 

“It's much too early for this.” Potter mumbled, heaving a great sigh. He tucked his wand away and got out of bed. “I'm going to go start a pot of tea, or maybe coffee if I can find some. We can talk over breakfast.”

“Like 'civilized people' I suppose.” Severus snarked at him.

“Exactly like that. And, as a _civilized_ person, you might want to take a shower - your eyeliner smudged something awful.” Harry gestured down his cheek.

Severus threw a pillow at the closing door. He wished he'd had something heavier.

  


  
  


  


The future was nothing like the past he'd come from, nor any fanciful idea Severus had ever dreamed. Severus blamed Potter. 

Potter was nonchalant about Severus' Dark Mark, puzzling from a scion of a Light family until he learned Harry had defeated the Dark Lord. The muscled git acted like time-travel was a commonplace event, hardly of note. He continued to act like he owned the house, informing Severus he'd finish adding the electrical soon enough and planned to rip out the wall between the kitchen and the solarium.

He also made tea the exact way Severus' preferred and smiled at his snarky comments, even when they were directed at Harry. He offered to talk to both old Professor Flitwick and a woman Harry assured him was the best researcher to ever walk the halls of Hogwarts on his behalf.

Potter bought him clothes, not thrift-shop mishmash but new, finely made clothes in Severus' preferred colors and in styles that would suit his lanky frame. He flirted, early in the morning before his first cup of tea, and had a habit of dragging a finger absently across Severus' collarbone when they passed in the hall at night. A regular occurrence; since Potter declared he was staying for the foreseeable future, and they could argue about who, in fact, owned the house at a later date. 

Severus felt like he'd been spun in a centrifuge and left to wander on unsteady legs.

  


  
  


  


Harry was very close to molesting his time-traveling house guest. 

He'd had a small crush on the Half-Blood Prince, Harry was man enough to admit. The snark and wit was even better in that velvet voice, especially since it wasn't yet venomous and jaded – Harry might have, once or twice, wanked to Severus dictating notes in the basement lab. Really, he'd have to be a saint to resist. A fact he'd informed Hermione of more than once, even if she was less than sympathetic. 

It was hardly Harry's fault that Snape had come back from the dead, well the past, and Harry couldn't control the fact that young Severus had a habit of wearing leather pants and eyeliner.

Okay. Harry might have supplied them but he'd only been trying to be nice to Snape. After all the other man had been wearing both when he arrived in the future. Harry just wanted Severus to feel comfortable. 

Really. 

He wasn't feeding his own fetishes. Besides, Harry was only spending so much time at Spinner's End because the uproar was still going on over Ginny's potions abuse and the Wedding-That-Wasn't. Not so he could stalk Severus more easily, no matter what Hermione said.

  


  
  


  


Severus wandered into the kitchen in search of tea to see Harry humming to himself and chopping a rather daunting pile of vegetables. The _impossible_ man was again without a shirt. If Potter noticed the cool damp breeze drifting in the windows he didn't show it. Severus sighed; he just knew he wasn't going to start that potions experiment now. 

Damn Harry for being so distracting anyway. Severus put the kettle on and sat at the table measuring tea. He dropped some into a second cup absently. His lips pursed, annoyed with himself. The pair of them were becoming too domestic. 

Months had passed since Severus' arrival in this time and the research into how to send him back wasn't promising. It looked like he was going to have to stay and make a life for himself – not an abysmal option; there wasn't anyone he missed and he had completed his objective, after a fashion. Potter seemed to settle more firmly in with each passing day, despite having concluded the electrical upgrades to the house. 

Severus shut the tea tin and shoved it away, propping his elbow on the table and his chin on his hand. Well, if Harry was going to wander around half dressed he could deal with being stared at, Severus concluded. He did make a supremely fetching picture toiling away at dinner. His back was broad, his muscles creating an inviting dip along his spine. The pants he was wearing were wonderfully broken-in, worn and clingy. As if they had weathered a growth spurt and only just managed to fit still. Harry had an apron tied around his waist in a sloppy bow. The neck ties dangled to the floor and Harry had wound one around his big toe. Ridiculous.

“You're going to trip yourself, you realize,” Severus remarked. Harry threw a smile at Severus and tucked the dangling ties into his front pocket. Severus continued to watch Harry work. He was so intent on the play of muscles that the shrill whistle of the kettle made him jump guiltily. 

“Pour me a- Oh.” With a pleased twist of his lips Harry accepted the cup Severus passed him before he could even finish his question. “Thanks, Sev.” Harry took a sip of the tea and set the cup aside, dropping a kiss on Severus' cheek as he put the kettle back on the stove. 

“Entirely too domestic.” Severus muttered and returned to his seat at the table. He missed the smirk Harry flashed at him but caught the other wizard looking at him in the reflection on the windows. Severus blushed – a reaction he'd thought he'd grown out of. Harry put a dish in the oven and turned around, leaning against the counter-top. He wiped his hands on a towel and flicked his unruly hair off his face. 

“While the vegetables roast I'm gonna try out that CD player. Come with?” Harry asked, his eyes glittered hopefully at Severus and the Slytherin couldn't muster a resistance to them. 

“I suppose. Your utter failures so far have at least been entertaining.” Severus stood and picked up his tea. Harry walked too close as they left the kitchen, his hand settling on the small of Severus' back. Not really leading Severus but making his body tingle at the gesture and the implied intimacy of it. A brief thought that maybe that was the point flitted across Severus' mind. 

Harry tinkered with the stereo set-up while Severus lit a few lamps. The house had electric lights, but Severus still preferred these. The light was warmer, less harsh. Harry finally got the CD to start playing and he snagged Severus by the arm, pulling him down onto the couch with him. Harry tucked Severus against his side, tightening his hold when Severus shifted. 

The Gryffindor sang along with the music, of course. “The boys who kiss and bite. They are the brilliant ones who speak and write, with silver luck-” 

Severus covered Harry's mouth, ending up half leaning over his bare chest. “Silence, Potter. So we might enjoy your triumph over technology. If you wanted it hear yourself, then why bother with the CD?” 

Harry licked Severus' palm but ceased his singing. Harry's hand drifted up, fingers combing through Severus' long hair and occasionally pressing at the tense muscles of his neck. Slowly Severus relaxed, enjoying Harry's petting and allowing the sultry voice of the singer to carry his mind away. 

They sat that way until the disc stopped and Harry had to go finish dinner.

  


  
  


  


Severus was going try something, perhaps a little reckless. With the looks and constant touches, Severus was sure Harry wouldn't mind, but there was the tiniest possibility Harry was just a touchy-feely git and the looks were over something else – some genetic malfunction making it seem like they sparked instead of true emotion. 

Severus brushed his hair until it shone and checked his appearance in the standing mirror beside his closet. He was wearing a pair of dark green pajama bottoms that were just slightly too big, settling low on his hips. He'd left off the matching shirt and swept his hair forward over one shoulder. Harry seemed enamored with it and Severus had let it grow since he'd arrived, so the tresses reached well below his shoulder blades. 

With a huff Severus quit biting his lip and walked out of his room before he could talk himself out of going to Harry tonight. 

Severus pushed open Harry's door softly and left it just as he'd found it, slightly ajar. He quickly settled on the bed, propped up by the pillows, to wait for Harry to finish his shower. He didn't have to wait long, Severus had timed his arrival for just that reason.

Harry came in still drying his hair and was almost at the bed before he noticed Severus. The older man gaped at Severus for a moment before he grinned a bit lecherously and climbed up the bed, like a prowling cat, over Severus. “Well, it's not my birthday and Santa never did leave me presents … though this would surely make up for it – unless of course, you merely mistook my room for yours?” Severus glared, grabbed a handful of Harry's hair and pulled him down into a long kiss. “So I am getting a present then. Lucky me.” 

Harry kissed Severus until he had to tear his mouth away to breathe. Harry kissed his way down Severus' neck and Severus felt his breath hitch when Harry nipped at his pulse. The older man's hands were roaming freely causing Severus' skin to tingle where ever they passed. He'd had a plan but he was quickly being overwhelmed and his only clear thoughts were how good Harry felt pressed along his side and whether his rush of teenage hormones was going to embarrass him. Harry was certainly trying his hardest to make Severus lose control. 

Severus yelped when Harry's attentions drifted lower and he landed a bite to his left nipple. Severus pulled Harry back up kissing him until he had his full focus and then rolling them over. Severus straddled Harry's hips hands pressing down on tanned shoulders. “Still!” Severus demanded. He was sure Harry could overpower him easily enough and reverse their positions but Severus was confident Harry would let him have his way in this. The man indulged him endlessly after all. In fact, the only thing he'd ever been stubborn about was leaving Spinner's End – not that Severus had pushed hard to see him leave. 

Harry just smiled at Severus and tucked his hands beneath his head. Satisfied, Severus slid back and took his time admiring the body beneath him. Harry was well put together--muscles heavy from labor, chest tapering sharply in at a high waist and hips curving into strong thighs. An active man's body, but oddly graceful at the same time – elegant enough for Severus' admittedly high standards. 

Severus mapped Harry's body with his tongue. He explored in a way he'd never been able to before--tasting and dragging his fingertips and nails over Harry's tanned skin just to see what responses he'd garner. A scrape of his teeth along Harry's flank drew a pronounced hiss from him that intrigued Severus. Harry seemed to prefer a firmer touch. 

Severus drifted further down and worried at the delineation above Harry's hip. This time the hiss was long and almost undulating. Severus shivered, his arousal rising at the sound. Driven to cause that seductive hiss again, Severus lavished attention on Harry's hips pushing his sleep pants down in tiny increments as he moved from one side to the other. 

He must have teased a bit too much because Harry eventually growled and flipped them over again. “Think that's enough, little Slytherin.” Harry rolled his hips against Severus' and leaned down, breath ghosting hot over his ear. “How far are we going, my pretty snake?” The last was almost hissed and Severus whimpered, bucking against Harry and curling a leg over his hip. 

Harry looked into Severus' eyes for a moment. “Have you...” Severus gave a sharp negative jerk of his head. Harry wavered, “You're sure, we could-” Severus interrupted the undoubtedly stupid offer by simply striking forward and biting at the base of Harry's neck. He was going to have this tonight and Harry's bloody over-protectiveness could fuck off. 

Harry gasped and his hips twitched as he pressed against Severus. He must have gotten the hint though because he didn't protest again, just reached into the bedside stand and removed a jar. He grinned when Severus snatched the jar up, sniffing the contents. “I got that recipe from you, sort of.” Severus raised an eyebrow, lifting up to let Harry pull his pajamas off. Had his past self and Harry been... Harry dragged his lips along Severus' jaw. “From your old potions text.”

Severus almost blushed, there had been some embarrassing trials written in the margins and blank pages. But if that was his slick then it was probably worth the blush. Severus' formulation had been far and above any other he'd seen or heard whispered about in the dorms. 

Harry prepared him carefully, kissing him to distract from the occasional twinge. Severus felt the urge to hurry his lover along but let Harry take his time, it was almost sweet in its own way, how much Harry cared for him – not that Severus would tell him so. When Harry was finally finished preparing Severus he slid one of Severus' legs over his shoulder and slowly eased his way into the younger man. Severus groaned at the unfamiliar sensations.

Harry moved in a steady rhythm that Severus picked up counterpoint to once his body quit overriding his brain enough for him to regain some coordination. Harry continued to kiss and nibble all along Severus' neck and shoulders as far as he could reach. Severus slid his hand around his erection adding to the swirls of sensation, of arousal and heat and passion flooding through him. He was going to come soon, but that was alright – the way Harry was shuddering and panting he wasn't far behind.

All too soon Severus felt himself writhe and fall over the edge into orgasm. He could barely breathe but he had to kiss Harry, he pulled his face to him and devoured Harry. Severus felt Harry thrust once more and the hot splash of his release. 

They lay curled together panting as if they'd run the length of a quiditch pitch, their hands idly roaming here and there. “I guess,” Harry remarked when they'd calmed down, bodies cooling. “That making that offering to Bes wasn't as much of a gimmick as my tour-guide claimed.” Severus snorted and shook his head at the latest example of his lover's eccentricities. 

Only Harry could coax any kind of luck from a typical tourist trap.

**-THE END-**

**Author's Note:**

> The song Harry and Sev listen to is [The Boys Are Too Refined](http://www.mediafire.com/?on3molztwdk) by The Hush Sound. (>_> five years early but who's counting?) 
> 
> **Bes:** Egyptian god – dwarf-ish in size. Depicted as early on with the body of a lion rearing on it's back legs. 
> 
> The show Harry watches in Japan is Josou (Crossdress) Paradise. I kid you not. Started because they got a slew of participants for a one time segment in another show. The original segment was popular so they did 10 or so eps, hosted by V6 (popular male vocal group).


End file.
